


Warmth

by arthurmorgan-s-heart (Silverblind)



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Cuddling, F/M, Fluff, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 19:29:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17189000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverblind/pseuds/arthurmorgan-s-heart
Summary: The nights are cold in Colter.





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> This is a request fill from my tumblr blog. Uploaded here for convenience - find me on tumblr - arthurmorgan-s-heart
> 
> Original request text: "Can I request Arthur and his crush cuddling before officially being together? They're just in his arms and he's just a nervous mess?"

Sometimes, you wonder if you’ve died and gone to Hell. Colter seems close enough to it.

There is no escape from the cold, sharp as it is, cutting through your many layers of clothing as easily as a knife, and the wind is never far behind, blowing relentlessly between the town’s ruined buildings and chilling you to the bone.

Even then, you would rather be out here than inside the ruined schoolhouse, crammed in with all the others - you’ll go back eventually, of course, but for now, you just want a bit of peace and quiet. And though the howling gale prevents you from enjoying the silence, there is something undeniably peaceful about the moonlit village and its apparent emptiness. If you close your eyes for a moment, you can almost believe that you’re alone.

You stomp your feet in a vain attempt to regain some feeling in your toes as you look over the frozen mountains; as beautiful as they are, you can’t help but wish you were somewhere else - not only is Colter cold and inhospitable, but it is a constant reminder of the gang’s failure in Blackwater. You stand in your half-sheltered corner by the dilapidated church for a few more minutes before you sigh, your breath misting in the frozen air as you resign yourself to going back to your crowded shelter. Before you can take a single step, the faint light of a lantern catches your eye, swinging from right to left in the billowing snow as its bearer grows closer and closer, until the blurry silhouette becomes familiar, and you recognize Arthur. You step out from your shadowed nook, greeting him with a wave, and he stops in his tracks at the sight of you, seemingly hesitating for a second before stepping nearer.

“What’re you doing out here?” he asks once he’s close enough, and though he’s but an arm’s length away, you can barely hear him over the fierce wind. You close the distance between you, until your shoulder is against him, unconsciously huddling closer to him than you should as you seek a bit of his warmth. He holds his lantern between the both of you, the warm glow threading gold through his frosted beard. “Gonna freeze to death.”

“I’m alright,” you say, suppressing a traitorous shiver that would have contradicted your words. “Just gettin’ some air. Too many people in there.” You wave in the general direction of the schoolhouse, and he nods.

“Still,” he says. “You should go back. Too cold out here to stay for long.”

“It’s fine,” you reply, and you see at the concerned furrow of his brows that you didn’t quite manage to hide the chattering of your teeth as well as you thought you did. “I’ll go back soon. I just - “ you look down at your feet, heaving a sigh. “I can’t sleep. I can barely think.”

He doesn’t answer, but you feel him looking at you, and you don’t dare meet his gaze. You see the light of the lantern shift as he switches it to his other hand, touching your shoulder lightly.

“Come on,” he says before he turns away, and you think he’ll lead you back to your own building, but he passes it by without stopping, until he reaches the small house he shares with Dutch and Hosea. He opens the door and motions for you to go inside, but you stay rooted to your spot, uncertain. You’re not sure the others would welcome your presence.

“It’s quiet enough in there, if you ignore Dutch’s snoring,” he says with a smile. “Warm, too.”

You finally give in at his words, your frozen body overtaking your mind as you step inside. You can’t help a relieved sigh when he follows you and closes the door, shutting out the wind. The fire in the hearth is mere embers, but Arthur is quick to bring it back to life, the flames soon burning high and bright again. 

“Sit,” he says, pushing a chair closer to the fire. “Wait here.” He disappears in his room.

You take off your snow-soaked coat before sitting in the offered chair, but you soon find yourself sitting on the floor, as close as you dare to the hearth, shivering despite the heat of the fire. You can hear Dutch snoring from the other room - that would have made you laugh had you not been so utterly frozen. Arthur steps back into the main room, and you look at him as he kneels next to you, draping a heavy woolen blanket over you. He allows his hands to linger on your upper arms, trying to rub warmth back into your frozen bones, his breath hitching in his throat when you give a sigh and lean into his touch, closing your eyes.

“You alright?” he whispers, his throat suddenly dry.

You simply hum in answer, warmth finally starting to seep back into you, though it immediately starts receding when he takes his hands off you as he stands up and turns away.

“You gonna be okay out here?” he asks, not daring to face you lest you see the blush he feels creeping across his cheeks. “I’ll be in my room - “

“Can you stay with me?”

He hopes you don’t notice the way his shoulders tense at your words, his mind immediately telling him he must have misheard you, though he knows he didn’t. He slowly turns back toward you, hoping that the red has faded from his cheeks. He should refuse, he knows he should, but the thought of spending an hour or two with you is more than he had ever hoped to get. He slowly removes his gloves before unbuttoning his coat, pulling the chair closer to you.

“Guess I can sit a while,” he breathes as he lowers himself into his seat. When he looks at you again, he’s surprised to see you holding out a hand to him.

“Down here,” you say, almost pleading. Another shiver courses through you. “Please.”

He’s frozen in his chair, his eyes fixed on your outstretched hand. Surely you can’t mean what he thinks you mean, you can’t want him to -

“Alright,” the word escapes his lips despite his racing mind, and he would have regretted it but for the grateful smile that you grant him in return. He stands up, pushing the chair away to make room before he removes his heavy coat entirely, laying it across the chair before placing his hat on top. He hesitates one last time before finally lowering himself to sit next to you, as close as he dares - which still leaves a respectable gap between the two of you, which you immediately close as you throw the blanket over his shoulders and press yourself against his side, sighing in relief. His heart is beating so loud that he’s sure you can hear it. He’s still not entirely convinced he's not imagining things - how many times had he dreamt of holding you? And now that you’re here, next to him, he’s petrified, limbs as heavy as stone, not daring to touch you though there is nothing in the world he wants more.

“Are you alright?” you whisper. You can’t help but notice how tense he is, and you start to regret your boldness. It was selfish of you to ask this of him - it was late, he would probably rather be in his bed -

But you feel the tension in his body fade away at your words, and you feel his hand on your waist, his touch feather-light and more gentle than you had ever expected he could be. You rest your head against his shoulder as you wrap the blanket tighter around you, and you feel warm for the first time in what almost seems like years.

“Fine,” he answers quietly. “You feelin’ better?”

“Much better,” you reply, and you might have noticed the way his grip tightens on your waist slightly, or the hitch in his breath, if you weren’t already starting to doze off. “Thank you.”

He’s almost afraid his heart might stop when you close your eyes and lean your entire body against him, and he doesn’t dare move a muscle when he realises you’ve fallen asleep. But after a few minutes, he feels himself relax as the heat of the fire melts away his nervousness, and he allows himself to rest his chin lightly on top of your head, squeezing his eyes shut and wishing the night would never end.

  
  



End file.
